


15x03 CODA

by Taybay14



Series: Season 15 CODAs [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15.3 coda, Angst, Caring Jody Mills, Cas gets to drink some tea and talk about his feelings, Castiel Needs a Hug (Supernatural), Coda, Dean Winchester's a dick, Drunk Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Not fixed, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Protective Jody Mills, Season 15, Spoilers, break-up, but better at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-04 05:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: That episode was brutal, and I'm too mad at Dean to fix it, but have some safe/taken care of Castiel with some slightly hopeful notes toward the end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to write a second installment of this, because Cas deserves more appreciation/care/love/etc. and I want to shower him with all of it

Dean stares at the bunker door, refusing to blink. Cas will come back. He just has to wait. Any second now. Cas will get a new wave of energy and come storming in. They’ll yell at each other. Hurt each other some more. Then Cas will go to his room, in the bunker, where he belongs, and Dean will get wasted and crash on the couch. 

Dean just has to wait. Once Cas comes back, they’ll finish it. They’ll go through the rest of their routine. 

Except, Cas doesn’t come back. 

Not after Dean blinks. Not after Dean realizes he’s crying. Not after Dean chugs the whiskey in his glass. Not after Dean fills that glass twice more. 

Certainly not after Dean throws the glass at the wall, the chaos of the crash sounding painfully similar to what’s happening in his chest. 

He pulls out his phone and calls Cas with shaking hands. His phone rings from across the room. When Dean slowly approaches the thing, as if it’s a bomb about to go off, as if things aren’t already beyond fucked up, as if Dean isn’t already destroyed, Dean finds a neat little pile of things that Castiel left behind. 

The cell phone Dean bought him, with the two of them in their cowboy hats as the lock screen photo. 

The mixtape Dean made him. 

The spare key to the bunker. 

The faded old Led Zeppelin t-shirt of Dean’s that they both pretended he didn’t steal. 

The copy of Slaughterhouse-Five Dean gave him. 

The cowboy hat from their trip to Dodge City. 

Dean collapses down at the table with the near-empty bottle of whiskey. As he sips on it, staring off at nothing, Dean replays the conversation. Well, maybe conversation isn’t the right word, considering he barely said anything. It’s more of what Dean didn’t say that matters. 

Dean doesn’t trust him. Castiel was right about that. 

But… they’ve lost trust in each other before. Multiple times. The two of them can be fucking idiots. They’re great at ignoring things, or keeping secrets. Great at hurting each other. 

So, yeah. Dean doesn’t trust him. But Castiel is supposed to  _ wait _ . He’s supposed to just sulk and take it. Keep apologizing until Dean forgives him. That’s what he did before. That’s all he did in purgatory. Constantly apologizing. It’s what Dean did after the whole mark of cain/demon shit show. He always made sure Castiel knew he didn’t mean the things that had happened, and that he was so sorry. 

They get pissed at each other. They fight. They give the silent treatment. But they love each other, and that’s supposed to be enough. It’s always been enough. 

_ Why wasn’t it enough? _

Dean takes a long pull of whiskey and slowly swallows it, allowing the liquid to burn him something fierce as it trickles down his throat. 

His powers are draining… but when aren’t they? Castiel’s powers have been draining since he rebelled against heaven for Dean. It’s not like he’s  _ falling _ .

_ He’s not falling, right? _

_ He can’t be falling.  _

Dean closes his eyes, his body starting to tremble. Castiel is right, Dean hasn’t even been able to look at him. He hasn’t been paying attention. Dean has no fucking idea if Castiel is falling. When Dean asked him if he was okay outside the impala the other day, Castiel had said, “Yes, but-” and Dean had walked away. 

He had walked away! 

What if Castiel was going to tell him he could feel himself falling. For real this time, like when he did after the angels fell. Not just low grace, weak powers, and a body that needs to rest more than it should, but falling  _ completely _ . Becoming human. 

And Dean rolled his eyes at him. 

Dean let him walk away. 

Dean let Castiel believe he was truly dead to him. 

Dean let him leave with the intention of moving on. 

_ Moving on? Fucking moving on?  _

_ What did Dean do? _

_ What did he do? _

_ What the fuck did he just do? _

  
  


\---- 

  
  


Castiel lifts a shaking hand to the center of the door and tentatively knocks, feeling terrible that it’s so late at night. He only had fourteen dollars in his wallet, which was enough to buy gas for this short trip, but not enough for food or a hotel. This is the only other family - well, not his family, but the Winchester’s family - that Castiel has left. It’s only right he says goodbye to them before leaving for good. He knows it’s awful he didn’t talk to Sam before disappearing, but Sam had enough pain today. Castiel will call him from the road. 

The porch light coming on pulls Castiel out of his thoughts. He steps back just as the front door is opened, giving Jody a wobbly smile. She tilts her head and gives him a smile of her own. It’s genuine, and warm, and makes Castiel want to curl up and cry. 

“Castiel. Hey. Are the boys,” she stops herself, looking over his shoulder before back at him. He can feel her eyes as they rake over him. The sheriff in her must figure the situation out real quick, because her eyes turn sad and she reaches out for Castiel’s hand, pulling him inside. “You look like you could use something to drink. Do you want a beer? Maybe some whiskey? I think Donna has a bottle of vodka in the freezer.”

Slowly settling on the stool Jody gestures to, Castiel shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

“Maybe some tea?” Jody presses. 

“Yes. Tea sounds lovely,” Castiel says quietly, not wanting to be rude. “Thank you, Jody.”

“Peppermint? Chamomile?”

Having no idea in the slightest, considering all Dean drinks is coffee, Castiel says on a whim, “Peppermint, please. Thank you, Jody.”

“Of course, Castiel.” She sets a teapot on the stove, then pulls out a mug and a box of peppermint tea. As the water heats over a gas flame, she turns back to Castiel. He slumps down and clenches his hands together where they rest on the breakfast bar’s countertop. It unfortunately does not make him feel any less vulnerable or inspected. “Are you feeling alright, Castiel?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel replies, hearing Dean’s voice like he’s saying the words for him. It makes him suddenly angry. “Actually, I’m quite exhausted. And hungry. And it’s just been a very long few days. I miss Jack, so much. And I miss Mary. But I don’t think I’m allowed to miss Mary because, well, you know. It’s my fault and all. But I still miss-”

“Castiel, I’m sorry for interrupting, but Mary was not your fault.”

“I’m pretty sure she was.”

“That’s not the story I got from Sam. I know Dean has been taking it out on you, Sam’s been worried. He wasn’t sure if he should step in. But he made it very clear to me that he does not believe his mother’s death is on you. And after he explained everything, I agree with him. Castiel, you wanted to assume the best of your son. That’s what you are supposed to do as a parent. It backfired, yes, but that’s life, Castiel. That’s just how life goes.”

Castiel swallows around a lump in his throat and closes his eyes to stop them from burning. He drops his head, trying to breathe. 

The room stays quiet until the silence is interrupted by the whistling tea pot. A minute later, a steaming cup of peppermint tea is placed in front of his clasped hands. Castiel stares at it like he doesn’t recognize it. 

“Did Dean kick you out, Castiel?” Jody asks softly. 

“He-” Castiel stops when his voice cracks. He clears his throat twice before trying again. “No, he didn’t. But I didn’t belong there. Or I wasn’t wanted there. Or both. It was time I leave. I’m going to - well, I’m hoping to move on.” 

When Jody says nothing, Castiel peeks up at her. She looks devastated. “He’s an idiot. You know that, right?”

“No. No, Dean Winchester isn’t an idiot.” Castiel shakes his head, a corner of his mouth perking up. He releases a shaky, self-deprecating laugh under his breath. “Dean Winchester is the best thing to ever happen to me, and I ruined it.” 

“Castiel-”

Castiel stares down at his tea, waiting for Jody to continue. She doesn’t. He can’t blame her. What’s there to say? It’s true. His world is crumbling as they speak, and it’s all of Castiel’s fault.

The worst part, though? He can’t even regret it. Any of it. He’d rebel again. Fall in love again. He’d take all of the pain and sadness. All of the pleasure. Every kiss. Every hug. Every hand held beneath the diner table. Every laugh. Every fight. He’d do it all again, happily, because for a while there, Dean Winchester showed him what true heaven was like. 

“I’m going to go make up the spare bedroom. You just drink your tea, okay?” Jody asks in the mom voice he’s heard her use with the boys, and Claire and Alex, before. 

“I can find somewhere else if-”

“Nonsense. You’re family, Castiel. You will sleep here. Claire will be happy to see you in the morning.”

Castiel takes a sip of his tea, wondering if that’s true. Can he still be family if he’s not with Dean? He always thought he was just included because Dean said so. Is Castiel really loved and cared for by these people, even if Dean doesn’t want them to? Would Claire really be happy to see him? The angel that killed her father? 

She did keep the grumpy cat stuffed animal after all…

Jody returns just as Castiel is finishing his tea. She guides him down the hall, showing him the bathroom where he’s welcome to shower if he’d like, then the bedroom. After a final look laced with concern, Jody gives him a quick hug and wishes him goodnight, closing Castiel’s door as she leaves. 

Castiel stares at the bed for a minute, the weight of the last few days sinking in. He drags his feet across the room, stripping as he goes. The last thing he does is kick off his shoes right before collapsing onto the mattress in nothing but his boxers and undershirt. He barely has the energy to move around and get under the covers, but it’s so worth it. His entire body relaxes as the warmth encases him. 

As the mounting exhaustion begins to pull the falling angel into dreamland, the last thing he thinks about is Dean. 

Castiel hopes the man sleeps well tonight. He deserves to get some rest. 

  
  


\---- 

  
  


Dean answers his phone with slow, uncooperative fingers. “Hey, Jody.”

“Dean Winchester, sometimes you are such an idiot that I want to smack you upside the head!”

“Wow,” Dean mumbles, rubbing a hand against his eyes. “You’re welcome for savin’ the world ‘n all.”

“And you’re drunk, too. I don’t know why I’m even surprised.”

“Jody, you need somethin’, or jus’ callin’ to make me feel’ike shit?”

He hears a deep sigh and rolls his eyes. Dean’s not in the mood for her to play mom right now. 

Dean has a mom. 

_ Had  _ a mom. 

Just like he had Cas. 

Now he’s lost them both. 

He’s lost Jack. 

Rowena. 

Ketch.

“I just called to let you know that Castiel is safe. He’s here.”

Dean sits up straight, knocking over the empty bottle of whiskey. He ignores it as it crashes to the floor. “He’s there? At your house?”

“Yes. I gave him some tea to help calm him a bit and put him in the spare bedroom. I know angels don’t sleep, but… well, he’s sleeping. Dead to the world already.”

_ You’re dead to me.  _

_ Dead to me.  _

_ I’m dead to you.  _

_ You don’t care. I’m dead to you.  _

_ My powers are failing. _

_ You don’t care.  _

_ My powers are failing.  _

_ I’m dead to you.  _

_ I know angels don’t sleep. _

Dean feels sick to his stomach, whiskey flavored acid crawling up his throat. “I’ll be right there. Don’t let him leave.”

“No, Dean. Go sleep the booze off.”

“I need to be with him.”

“I’m not sure he needs to be with you, though.” Dean flinches like he’s just been slapped. Honestly, it feels like he has been.

_ But is she wrong?  _

Probably not… 

“Will you just - just don’t let him go disappearing, okay? Take care of him, please.”

There’s a long pause. Then, “Get some rest, Dean. He’ll be fine without you.”

Jody hangs up without saying anything else, leaving Dean alone on the other end. He tosses the phone onto the table and buries his face in his hands. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Castiel will be fine without him. Hell, maybe Castiel will be better off without him. Dean should really just leave him alone. 

Dean eventually drags himself to his room, collapsing on the bed. The whiskey and exhaustion do their job, pulling him under in no time. Just before slipping into dreamland, the last thing he thinks about is Castiel. 

Dean hopes the angel sleeps well tonight. He deserves to get some rest. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I coudn't stop thinking about Cas last night and needed to draw <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my CODA, because a new episode is coming up, and I'm not emotionally prepared :o

Castiel wakes just as the sun is rising. Despite not getting much sleep, he feels rested and ready to take on the day. As rested and ready as possible under the circumstances, anyway. The coffee pot is full of dark liquid that’s still warm. A yellow sticky note is stuck to the front of the machine, neat writing informing him that Jody had to go into work early, and telling him to help himself to anything he needs until she’s back at four P.M.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, Castiel walks over to the two large sliding glass doors by the kitchen table and heads outside. The air is cool and crisp, but it feels nice. Refreshing. Castiel leans on the railing of the wooden deck and looks out at the brilliant colors of the back yard. The leaves are breathtaking. 

“It’s freezing out here,” Castiel hears from the sliding doors. He glances over his shoulder and forces a smile when he sees Claire standing there. 

“I don’t mind.”

She gives him a critical look before stepping out onto the porch and offering him a blanket, hat, scarf, and mittens. When he stares at them instead of taking them from her, she rolls her eyes. “You’re such a doof. Come here.”

When Castiel approaches her, she tugs the burgundy hat over his head, then winds the scarf around his neck. He gets with the program and gives her his coffee so she can hold it while he puts the mittens on as well. After, she wraps the flannel blanket around his shoulders and pats him on the shoulder. 

“Much better,” Claire declares. Castiel just now notices that she’s dressed similarly, her black jacket matched with a black hat, a gray scarf, and a pair of mittens that are black with white and gray polka dots. She gives him his coffee back and smiles. “Now, you go ahead and do your weird staring off into space thing that you were just doing, but when you’re done, come inside. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“We do?”

“Yup. All sorts of plans.”

“We have plans? You and I?” Castiel asks, trying to clarify. 

She rolls her eyes. “And Alex, too, yup. Chop chop.” 

With two claps of her mitted hands, she heads back inside. He stares at the sliding door for another moment before turning his focus back to the trees. 

“What in the world could they have planned with me?” he asks the myriad of red, yellow, and orange. 

The trees don’t answer. 

Just another reason to hate Chuck.

\---- 

The first stop on their schedule is to a bakery. Castiel, Alex, and Claire all get something to drink and eat before hopping back in the car. As they drive, Claire and Alex talk to each other in a constant babble, letting Castiel be as he enjoys his hot cocoa and blueberry muffin. He's feeling much better now that his stomach is full and he's decently rested. Claire must be able to sense this, because she broaches the subject they've all clearly been avoiding as Alex pulls the car into a store parking lot. 

"How are you, Cas? Jody said it was a rough night?"

"Rough few days," Castiel says quietly, looking down at his empty to-go cup. "I'll be fine, though. I am always fine."

There's a pause long enough for him to glance up. He finds that both girls are now frowning at him. "What?"

"Well, you're talking to two experts on pretending to be fine when you're really a fucking mess, so don't bullshit us," Claire says matter-of-factly. 

"What Claire meant to say in a much kinder way, I'm sure," Alex says with an eye roll, "Is that you don't have to pretend with us. We don't have to talk about it, but feel free to do so. Or to just be sad or whatever else you feel like being. Okay?"

Castiel nods, understanding. "Okay."

"Great. Now, let's fix your coat." 

Looking down at his trench coat, Castiel asks, “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“First of all, it’s thin, and you’re clearly more human now considering the way you scarfed down that muffin, so you need something warmer,” Alex explains. “It’s nearly winter now. You’re going to be too cold in that, Cas.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, that thing is atrocious, and old. My dad got that for Christmas when I was like… five. Time for a change, dude.”

Castiel doesn’t like change. He’s had enough damn change in his life recently. Eleven years ago, he commanded a garrison. He was one of Michael’s chosen few. Was given the privilege to save the righteous man. Michael’s true vessel. It was one of the highest honors. 

He was respected. 

He was feared. 

Then he fell in love with humanity. With Dean, if we’re being honest. Those freckles that were like a galaxy on pale skin. Those green eyes that held so many questions and even more answers. 

Castiel lost it all. 

But he’ll tell ya what - he still has _this _trench coat. It’s been to hell and back - more than once. It’s all he has left. 

That’s why, even though he’s shown multiple options, given at least a dozen eye rolls, and told twice that he’s a doof, Castiel walks out of the coat store with something very similar to his trusty trench coat, just made of wool instead so it’s warmer. 

\---- 

Pumpkin patches are wondrous places. Castiel had assumed it'd be a small farm with pumpkins everywhere, but that's not the case. At least not here. Yes, there are pumpkins. Many, many pumpkins, all of different shapes, sizes, and even colors. But there are also apples - an entire orchard of gorgeous red apples. There’s a corn maze, which Castiel finds both entertaining and frustrating. He gets lost so many times before a five or six year old child takes pity on him by leading him out. It was still a lot of fun, even if Alex and Claire teased him for being terrible at it. 

They went for a hayride, too. The farm provided them with big flannel blankets and hot cocoa as they rode in the back, brought around the entire farm, the man driving telling them fascinating information on the crops and harvest, as well as the history of the area and the farm. Then they got to pet the farm animals. Castiel became fond of a horse that enjoyed licking his face. He even giggled, which felt very good to be honest. 

Of course, Castiel’s favorite part of their day at the farm was the Bakery & Farm Store. He’s never tasted anything so delicious. They sat at a little table for over an hour, stuffing their faces until Castiel nearly got sick. Between the three of them sharing their treats, they all tried apple cider donuts, cinnamon rolls, strawberry crepes, apple pie, strawberry cream cheese danish, chocolate covered croissants, strawberry rhubarb pie, blueberry muffins, and caramel apple pie. The little old lady running the place liked them so much, she shared her pumpkin pie recipe with Castiel, who promised he’d go home and make it that night. 

They left the farm with seven pumpkins, two bags of apples, a dozen apple cider donuts - which were Castiel’s favorite - and caramel apples to-go. By the time Castiel got to the car, he was full, happy, and exhausted. It was the perfect combo to curl up in the backseat and take a little snooze during their long ride home. 

He fell asleep smiling. 

\---- 

Dean is wide awake despite it being the middle of the night. He's been stalking Castiel's Instagram. Yes. Instagram. Apparently Claire and Alex thought he needed one. Dean only has the damn thing to stalk Dr. Sexy MD actors, but now he's using it to stalk a certain falling angel he can't stop thinking about. 

Since he saw the first picture, Dean has been refreshing the page every other minute. It had been a picture taken by Claire, which is how Dean originally came across it, with Castiel tagged in it. He was standing outside, wrapped in a flannel blanket and drinking something from a mug as he stared off at the colorful backyard. Claire's caption had been: _Finally finding his peace. _

That was at 4:07 P.M, though clearly it had been taken much earlier in the day.

Suffice to say, Dean has gotten _nothing _accomplished tonight. He hasn't even eaten dinner. All he's done is sit in his room, drink whiskey, and refresh the page.

At 4:37 P.M, there had been the first two photos uploaded by Castiel himself. One was of him reaching up to pluck a leaf off of a tree. The other was just his mitted hand holding the same leaf. The caption for the two was a simple: My favorite. 

Dean ached at the fact he wasn't there. He wondered what Castiel's face looked like when he caught sight off this one perfect leaf. Wondered if he had smiled when he finally got it in his hands. Wondered if Castiel still had the leaf, or if he had easily tossed it onto the ground after the photo, just like Dean had done to him.

At 4:42 P.M, Claire uploaded a few photos. One was of Castiel in his new coat and winter gear Dean noticed in the previous photos. He was smiling at something off to the side, a pumpkin patch lined by colorful trees behind him. The next was of Castiel's mittens holding a blue travel coffee mug. Then a photo of Castiel's torso as he holds a pumpkin. Dean knew it was Castiel because of the tiny scar on his thumb. It was from nicking himself with an angel blade last week. With his lowered grace, it hasn't healed properly. Dean had to choke down a new wave of guilt at that reminder before he could look at the final photo. It was of the girls and Castiel around a table where they seemed to be carving pumpkins. They were laughing. 

Castiel was wearing a new sweater. 

At 5:13 P.M, Castiel posted a photo of a carved pumpkin. It was quite awful. The eyes were different sizes, the nose was partially cut out, but the piece of pumpkin was still stuck inside of it for some reason, and the smile was… unique. The caption was: Claire said I 'nailed it.'

Dean had to wait two hours for another photo. And that's what he did. He waited. Did nothing but drink and hate himself. And, of course, refresh the page. 

At 7:22 P.M, Castiel finally posted another photo. It made Dean's heart skip. Well… the caption had, anyway. The pumpkin pie itself was a bit shaky, considering the darker-than-they-should-be edges. But the caption had brought tears to Dean's eyes. _It would have tasted better with you. _

Dean had tried calling Claire after that. Then Alex. Then Claire again. They ignored him. When he tried calling Jody, she sent a text back saying she was at work, asking if it was an emergency. 

With a fresh glass of whiskey, he had waited. 

At 8:36 P.M, Castiel posted two more pictures. One of someone making a s'more, a bonfire in the background. The other, two pairs of feet wearing wool socks as they rest up against the side of the fire pit. To the right were blue socks with little snowflakes on them. To the left were bright yellow socks covered in bumble bees. 

Dean knew which one was Castiel. 

The caption was a simple: _Happy_.

It made Dean curl into his pillow and cry. 

The last one that Dean saw was at 11:57 P.M. It showed Castiel sitting on a bed, holding a purple mug with _Witch Please_ written on it in one hand, and holding an open book in the other. He was in a gray hooded sweater, his legs covered with a blanket the same color as his gorgeous eyes. It was captioned: _"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."_

It's at 3:09 A.M. that Dean realizes Castiel must have fallen asleep. 

He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes after, heart racing even though it has no reason to be. It takes a while for the whiskey soaked exhaustion to win over his mind, but eventually Dean slips into a dream. 

Castiel is there. In a pumpkin patch. He looks at Dean with a smile and hands him a beautiful leaf. "My favorite for my favorite." 

And Dean kisses him. 

He kisses him like his life depends on it.

He kisses him like he knows, deep down, that he'll soon have to wake up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to check me out on tumblr @ destiel-love-forever to keep up to date, see no content, send prompts, and see ways to support me and my work <3 Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @ destiel-love-forever to hear me rant about this ep, as well as do other nerdy things. <3


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